Rayne takes another corner without slowing down and my body hits the side of the car harshly, knocking the wind from my lungs.
“Can you quit that?” I choke. The agony from the gunshot radiates from the wound itself throughout my abdomen and down my thighs. This is fortunately my first, and I hope to fuck it’s my last because holy fucking shit does it hurt.
Rayne glares at me out of the corner of his eye and purposely does the same thing again at the next bend. “Get into the fucking security system and check on Storm and Wynter and leave the driving to me.”
I sigh. I’m trying to hack into the cameras with the laptop Rayne keeps in his car, but they’ve shut the system down completely and it doesn’t matter which way I try to sneak in, the only cameras I can get into are the safe room.
Snow holds Emerson as she shakes in her arms, her phone clutched to her chest, but the room is completely dark, the cameras that usually fill the wall behind them gray and fuzzy. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t get the cameras on, and I can’t check if Wynter is okay. For all I know, they’ve already taken her and Storm, I just have to hope if that is the case, that they take them to the club because that’s where they think they’re safe.
“She’s fine, Ev,” Rayne says a moment before we take another bend, but this time I brace myself for the blow.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do. I know my sister. There’s no way she’s going down without one hell of a fucking fight. She saved Emerson and Snow, got them both into the safe room and sacrificed herself. She’s the strongest fucking woman I’ve ever met, and there’s not a chance in hell she’s going out like this.” I’ve never heard Rayne talk about his sisters with so much pride, or sound so sure of their abilities.
“She fucking hates me, Rayne. You didn’t see the way she looked at me at Frost today. I’ve never seen her look at someone with so much hatred and disgust as she did me today.”
“She only had one side of the story.”
“Does that really matter? I’ve lied to her over and over again. I’ve broken her heart, hurt her, and now she finds out I’ve been working with my uncles. I can’t see how she’s going to look past that.” A wave of agony crashes down on me, and I hold the old blanket I have pressed to the wound closer, a hiss whistling through my teeth. I can succumb to the pain as soon as I’m sure my girl is safe, and not a moment sooner.
“How far away are we?” I ask, finally looking out the window. The roads are quiet for this time of night, the highway is usually bumper to bumper at this time, but maybe some god somewhere is looking down on us. Maybe they know how pure Wynter is, and that we’re her only hope.
“A few minutes at most,” he tells me, taking another turn but this time I brace myself for the pain. I need it.
The closer we get to the estate, the deeper the sinking feeling in my chest seems to get. What if she’s not there? What if they’ve taken her?
Rayne skids into the driveway, the rear of the car spinning out as I grab a hold of the door to keep myself in place if we spin out of control, but he quickly pulls the car back in line and guns down the driveway.
“There’s a gun under your seat. I think we’re going to need it,” Rayne says, nodding toward the gate where a line of Russo’s men stand. I hate to think of how many people we’ve lost tonight, but it’s nowhere near the number they’re going to lose, including their fearless leaders. The longer we wait to hear how the hit went, the more nervous I’m getting. Tommy may trust The Legion but I sure as hell don’t.
Bullets hit the car in loud dings, but I designed this car myself for Rayne knowing the shit he gets himself into. There won’t be a dent no matter how many bullets they fire. He presses the button and both windows open as I quickly pull the gun from beneath me and aim it out the window. “You know you’re going to have to get a dad car when you knock up Emerson.”
“Fuck off,” he growls, pulling the trigger with ease as he holds the car steady. This sure as hell isn’t his first rodeo. Rayne lives for this shit.
The guards at the gate don’t seem to be expecting us to start shooting so soon, their bodies hitting the ground long before we reach them, even with the considerable speed we’re going.
“Uh, Rayne, no one’s in the guard house to open the gate,” I remind him when he gives no signs of slowing down.
“I know.”
The gate speeds toward us and the moment the car makes contact with the wrought iron, my entire body absorbs the impact painfully. I may have reenforced the car to withstand a lot, but I don’t expect the gate to buckle beneath the pressure of the Aston Martin.
Rayne doesn’t miss a beat, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as we gun toward the house and our women. “We needed a new gate anyway.” He shrugs.
